


Three Rogues in a Knife Throwing Contest

by anotherroguetrevelyan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherroguetrevelyan/pseuds/anotherroguetrevelyan
Summary: Cullen observes a knife throwing contest between Hawke, the Inquisitor, and the Hero of Ferelden.Originally part of "Lovers in Skyhold," but I decided to remove it and post it on its own since this is entirely out of canon.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Three Rogues in a Knife Throwing Contest

“Commander, Ser…”

“Jim, haven’t you learned not to interrupt me?”

It was a warm, sunny day in Skyhold, and most of its inhabitants were taking full advantage of it. Cullen, however, was deep in a stack of reports, determined to finish them before evening.

“It’s the Champion of Kirkwall, Ser.”

“And what has Hawke done this time?” Cullen asked, not bothering to look up from his work.

“She’s…started a knife throwing contest with her Majesty, the Queen of Ferelden and the Inquisitor.”

Cullen was out the door and down the steps before Jim could gather what had happened. As the Commander crossed the courtyard toward the training grounds, he cursed under his breath. He knew it had been a bad idea to have the three most dangerous women in Thedas under one roof. Especially when all three of them were trained rogues.

A crowd of cheering fans had gathered in the training grounds. As he made his way to the commotion, he couldn’t help but give way to the infectious high spirits that the event had brought to Skyhold. He too was curious, and when he caught the Inquisitor’s eyes, her brief, mischievous grin was enough to win him over fully.

Cullen turned to take in the scene that surrounded him. Varric and the Iron Bull had set up a betting ring to the side, where Cullen observed many of his soldiers lined up to place their bets. Cole sat with them, thrilled with the excitement and happiness. Dorian, Vivienne, and Josephine had perched themselves on the staircase, high enough to see over the crowd. While Dorian and Vivienne expressed mild curiousity, Josephine appeared utterly appalled. Cassandra and Leliana were leaning against the walls, heads close, pointing and discussing the situation. Blackwall and Sera were in the front, cheering just as much as the soldiers, and even Solas had decided to make an appearance, standing a respectable distance away from the commotion.

“What’ll it be, Curly?” Varric asked as Cullen approached their table. “Care to wager some gold on the Herald?”

“I would, but I’m never gambling again.”

“Not even to put some coin on the love of your life?” Cullen blushed furiously.

“She hardly needs my coin to win.” Cullen smiled, knowing that Evelyn actually _did_ have his coin with her - a coin he had given her in one of their rare private moments, which she now wore under her armor on a chain around her neck.

“You’d better hope so, Curly. I’ve taken down my share of demons with both her and Hawke, and this is the stuff my nightmares are made from. As for the Queen, she took down an arch demon with her _dog._ And she’s a Warden. Even Blackwall seems scared of her. I don’t know how this will end, but I can’t wait to find out.”

Cullen made his way through the crowd, arriving next to Sera and Blackwall. The Queen of Ferelden stood next to the Inquisitor, and he noted that they seemed rather similar. Both had been born into nobility and thrust into chaos, suddenly responsible for the fate of the world. There was an air of regality about the pair of them, who were no strangers to leadership, and the Ferelden and the Free Marcher seemed two sides of the same coin. The only difference, he noted, was that Evelyn had more than enough action in the field as of late, while the Queen appeared to be itching to get back into the thick of things.

Hawke was something else entirely. Raised in Lothering, she had come from humble roots. During Cullen’s time in Kirkwall, he had heard rumors of her working as a smuggler, as poor fortune had struck her family as Ferelden refugees during the Blight. She was a survivor, certainly, but she was also chaos incarnate. What she lacked in poise she made up for in wild energy and sarcastic humor.

Seeing the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall had done little for his nerves. Both had seen him at his worst, and he wished more than anything he could take back his actions in the Ferelden Circle and in Kirkwall. Both had been gracious in accepting his apologies, but the shame he felt from his former life rose in him whenever he spoke with them.

But then, it started.

The Queen of Ferelden went first, throwing a dagger expertly into the target in front of her. It hit dead center, setting a high bar for her opponants. The other women were not to be discounted, however, and performed with equal accuracy. The targets were moved further away with each passing round. Eventually, even this wasn’t enough, and the Iron Bull stepped in to throw objects into the air for the women to hit, as still targets were too easy.

While the spectacle was certainly entertaining to watch, those who had placed bets would surely be disappointed. The women, it seemed, were equally matched, and after many rounds there was still neither winner nor loser. The event ended in smiles and handshakes, and those who came were even more in awe of the women than they had been before.

“Nothing like throwing some knives to relax after a long week,” Evelyn joked, suddenly appearing at Cullen’s side. The crowd had subsided now, returning to their usual evening activities.

“Beautiful _and_ dangerous,” Cullen said, wrapping an arm around her and pressing a kiss upon her head. “I’m the luckiest man alive.” Evelyn laughed, turning into him and reaching her arms around his neck.

“I’ll be entertaining two beautiful and dangerous Fereldens for dinner this evening. Have any pointers?”

“You won’t have any trouble, but if you can acquire a mabari between now and then, that always helps with Fereldens.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Have fun, love. And try not to let Hawke start a demon killing contest.”

“But what if _I_ want to start a demon killing contest?”

“As your advisor, I’d have to recommend against it.”

“And as my lover?”

“I would still have to recommend against it.”

“You’re no fun.”

Cullen laughed at her feigned pout. She was an entirely different woman now from the Inquisitor he had just seen hurling knives through the air. He couldn’t imagine the weight she bared, living up to being Andraste’s champion. The real woman was one few got to see, and Cullen was especially pleased that he saw even more of her than anyone else. He gave her all of him in return, and thanked the Maker daily that she wanted him too.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Cullen asked, rubbing his thumb mindlessly across her cheek.

“Actually,” she said, raising her own hand to his, “I’m rather concerned about the hole in your roof. I can’t have my Commander getting sick from sleeping in the cold. It’s my duty to make sure you’re kept healthy and warm. The task is too important to delegate, you see.”

“What would you suggest?” Cullen’s lips were close to hers now as he waited for her response.

“Come to my quarters this evening after dinner?”

“I’ll be there.”

As their lips met, Cullen was sure of two things. The first, was that this was to be the longest dinner he had ever sat through. The next was that he was the luckiest man in the world.


End file.
